The song needed at least fifty-six takes, another band record! As for David Gilmour, his lack of interest was surprising. Some later said that he disapproved of the cynicism of the lyrics, which attacked a system that had made them all rich…
But he made up for it with a superb guitar solo with a strong rock vibe, funky, with phrasing still as blues-tinged as ever (from 3:17 onward). Mason intensifies the groove with some markedly more rhythmic hi-hat playing that gives an impression of speed. The piece is abruptly interrupted by an effect probably created on the VCS3 or the Minimoog (at 4:52). However, the music continues, but it has been equalized to simulate the sound of a radio and to link up with the introduction to “Wish You Were Here,” which follows on from it with an identical feel.
For Pink Floyd Addicts
The trademark phrase Which one’s Pink? is based on something the band had actually experienced. David Gilmour explained: “There were an awful lot of people who thought Pink Floyd was the name of the lead singer […]. That’s how it all came about, it was quite genuine.”107
The Queen guitarist, Brian May, and the Foo Fighters recorded their own version of “Have a Cigar” for the soundtrack of Mission: Impossible 2 (2000).
Wish You Were Here
David Gilmour, Roger Waters / 5:40
Musicians
David Gilmour: vocals, vocal harmonies, twelve-string and six-string acoustic guitars, pedal steel guitar, electric lead guitar
Rick Wright: Steinway piano, Minimoog
Roger Waters: bass, VCS3 (?)
Nick Mason: drums
Stéphane Grappelli: violin (on the version on Wish You Were Here [Experience Edition])
Recorded
Abbey Road Studios, London: May 16, 19, 21–23, 28–30, July 10, 24, 28, 1975 (Studios Two and Three)
Technical Team
Producer: Pink Floyd
Sound Engineer: Brian Humphries
Assistant Sound Engineer: Peter James
Genesis
In an interview with Nick Sedgwick, Roger Waters confided that he usually composed the music before writing the lyrics, but occasionally did both at the same time. “Only once have the lyrics been written down first—‘Wish You Were Here,’” he said. “But this is unusual; it hasn’t happened before.”106
Indeed, the lyrics give us an insight into Waters’s innermost thoughts and express the artist’s clash of emotions. In an interview with Karl Dallas, he explained: “In a way it’s a schizophrenic song. It’s directed at my other half, if you like, the battling elements within myself. There’s the bit that’s concerned with other people, the bit that one applauds in oneself, then there’s the grasping avaricious, selfish little kid who wants to get his hands on the sweets and have them all. The song slips in and out of both personae, so the bit that always wants to win is feeling upset and plaintively saying to the other side, wish you were here.”108 Does the dark side dominate over the bright side of Waters’s personality? It seems that way. For the main character in the song can’t necessarily distinguish between heaven and hell, blue skies and pain. The song proceeds via a series of questions: would you trade your heroes for ghosts, did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? “Most of the songs that I’ve ever written all pose similar questions,” Roger Waters acknowledges in The Story of Wish You Were Here. “Can you free yourself enough to be able to experience the reality of life as it goes on before you and with you, and as you go on as part of it or not? Because if you can’t, you stand on square one until you die.”102
At the same time as he expresses this apparent mental confusion, struggling to tell the difference between the real and the illusory, the songwriter is also taking another swipe at the record industry, which—motivated solely by the lure of profit—tends to encourage its artists to pursue pipe dreams rather than appreciating what they’ve got. “Wish You Were Here” again—and throughout—refers implicitly to Syd Barrett when Waters mentions an artist locked up in the cage of his illusions, and slightly less implicitly when he extols the true meeting of minds: We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, and he admits to sharing the same old fears. So Barrett’s absence is all the more painful, and it is with genuine sadness that he sings wish you were here.
But in the end, isn’t “Wish You Were Here” purely and simply a love song? “Yes, that’s true,” the songwriter would admit to Philippe Constantin in 1976. “It’s a love song, and still one on a very general and theoretical level. If I was undergoing psychoanalysis, my analyst would tell you why I don’t write love songs. In fact, I’ve done one or two others, but always in a very impersonal way. If I haven’t really spoken about love, perhaps it’s because I’ve never really known what love was.”9
Production
The “Wish You Were Here” recording sessions started on May 16. At that point, the song did not yet have a title. Initially known as “Untitled (An Afternoon at Home with the Duke of Royden),” it was then renamed more modestly “The Squire of Royden” (as Gilmour lived near Royden in Essex), before it acquired its definitive name on May 22. That same day the band returned to the backing track that had been recorded on May 16 and added different overdubs. The third take was the one they went with.
The introduction to the piece is rooted in the ending of “Have a Cigar,” which simulated the sound of a radio. Someone then fiddles about with the frequencies. We catch snippets of conversation: … and disciplinary remains mercifully… yes… now would you take this star nonsense? No, no… now, which is it?… I’m sure of it… Further on, we hear a short excerpt from Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 1. Then an acoustic twelve-string guitar rings out, the sound distorted by the radio effect that, curiously, gives it the tone of a Dobro. David Gilmour later explained that this effect was achieved by equalization, by cutting the instrument’s high and low frequencies. “The interference was recorded on my car cassette radio, and all we did was to put that track on top of the original track [probably on May 28]. It’s all meant to sound like the first track getting sucked into a radio, with one person sitting in the room playing guitar along with the radio.”100 That’s why Gilmour takes up a six-string acoustic for a solo, played clean, which contrasts perfectly with the distorted tone of the twelve-string (at 0:58). He said he regretted not having been able to rerecord it, because each time he listens to it he can’t help feeling that he didn’t play it very well… He then accompanies himself with some strumming on his Martin D-35 before taking the lead vocal. The twelve-string gives way to a pedal steel guitar (Fender 1000 double neck), which he uses to color the harmony with plenty of reverb.
When the bass and drums come in (at 2:04), Rick Wright embarks on a lovely lyrical acoustic piano section with a folk-rock feel. He then performs a second solo on his D-35, which he seems to play with a slide, along with a scat accompaniment. In the course of this same passage he reprises the introductory riff on the twelve-string (doubled, probably a Martin D12-28), and Wright backs him up with resonant effects on his Minimoog. After singing the first verse, which he harmonizes himself, Gilmour takes up the main riff again—still with Wright on his Minimoog—before ending with a final slide solo on the acoustic, once again with a scat accompaniment. Then, as we move into the final fade-out, a synthetic wind noise produced on the VCS3 progressively dominates the whole end of the song. It is worth noting that, on May 30, Gilmour recorded an electric guitar part that was not used in the mix, though there is a fragment remaining at 3:12.
There is one surprising fact associated with the recording of “Wish You Were Here.” Some people claim they can hear the sound of a violin in the dying seconds of the track, at the very end of the fade-out. To be honest, though, it is completely inaudible. It is true, however, that this instrument did play a part in the production of the song. On May 23, Stéphane Grappelli, the extraordinary former partner of Django Reinhardt, and Yehudi Menuhin, one of the greatest classical violinists, were themselves recording in Abbey Road’s Studio One. Keen to give
the title track a country feel, David Gilmour thought that a violin would be a good idea. “Both were pleased to be asked,” Nick Mason recalls, “and Stéphane volunteered to take up the challenge. Yehudi preferred to stand listening to Stéphane’s sinuous jazz violin.”5 But the band retained nothing of this recording, and listening to the 2011 version, one gets a better sense of the reason for this: Grappelli, one the best jazz violinists in the world, was unable to summon that touch of genius that he is known for. Perhaps this style of music was too far removed from his familiar universe.
For Pink Floyd Addicts
Anecdotally, Stéphane Grappelli’s participation did not happen as naturally as Nick Mason suggests. On the contrary, the band had to negotiate hard before getting him to agree, as Grappelli was a sharp businessman. It was a question of the size of the fee, which was said to be £300.
Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts 6-9)
Parts 6–8 (David Gilmour, Richard Wright, Roger Waters); Part 9 (Richard Wright) / 12:23
Musicians
David Gilmour: electric rhythm and lead guitars, pedal steel guitar, bass, vocal harmonies (?)
Rick Wright: keyboards, vocal harmonies (?)
Roger Waters: vocals, bass
Nick Mason: drums
Venetta Fields, Carlena Williams: backing singers
Unidentified Musicians: VCS3, singing glasses, sound effects
Recorded
Abbey Road Studios, London: January 13–16, 20–23, 27–30, February 3–6, 10–12, 14, 17–20, 24–26, March 3, May 5, 15, 19–21, 29, June 2, July 7,–8, 11, 14–19, 28, 1975 (Studios One, Two, and Three)
Technical Team
Producer: Pink Floyd
Sound Engineer: Brian Humphries
Assistant Sound Engineer: Peter James
Genesis
The second movement of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” which starts with the concluding wind of “Wish You Were Here,” consists of four parts: a long introduction, a second sung part, then the third and the fourth, both instrumental parts. Once again Roger Waters’s lyrics make direct reference to Syd Barrett: Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far. This line refers both to the mental confusion of the ex–Pink Floyd band member, and to the hermit-like life he has led since leaving the band, as well as the numerous questions raised by his absence (physical this time). Barrett, seeker of the truth, brilliant mind—especially for Waters, who would never forget the glorious past: And we’ll bask in the shadow of yesterday’s triumph…
Production
SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND (Parts 6–9)
Part 6 (0:00–4:38)
This sixth part starts with the synthetic wind from the VCS3 that concludes the previous track, “Wish You Were Here.” Two bass notes are heard, emerging seemingly from nothingness, probably played by David Gilmour, and are repeated three times before a second bass comes in, its sound highly colored by phasing (MXR Phase 90?). This time it seems to be Roger Waters who is playing. A short phrase added by overdub—still on the bass—reinforces the motif. Incidentally, this introduction with the wind and the two basses played by Gilmour and Waters is similar in spirit to that of “One of These Days” (Meddle). Then we hear layers of strings from Rick Wright’s ARP Solina, with licks and rhythmic phrases played by Gilmour on his “Black Strat,” and Mason comes in, opting for a plain approach with no hi-hat or cymbals. All this creates a rather unsettling ambiance for Wright’s superb solo on the Minimoog, the sound generously echoed by his Binson Echorec II. He has said he prefers this album to the previous one as he feels his playing is superior; listening to this solo, one is tempted to agree with him. The time signature changes at 2:30, Mason brings in his cymbals, and Gilmour takes over from Wright, improvising on his pedal steel guitar, which is distorted and open-tuned in G. He adds harmony to his lines at 4:18, and enhances the groove with two rhythm guitar parts opposite each other in the stereo picture.
Part 7 (4:39–6:02)
Part 7 marks a return to the main theme developed in the fourth part of the first movement. Wright returns to his Hammond organ and Gilmour to his “Black Strat” to play the melody line, before Waters comes in with the lead vocal, in a voice that is fragile and moving, yet still powerful. He is supported throughout with vocal harmonies provided by Wright and/or Gilmour, but also by the highly talented Venetta Fields and Carlena Williams. Gilmour later confessed that he and Waters struggled to record the lead vocals for the album: “I have trouble with the quality of my voice but I don’t have much difficulty keeping in tune. On the other hand, Roger has no problem with vocal quality but he does have trouble keeping in tune.”100
Part 8 (6:03–9:04)
This sequence starts with the same arpeggios as those played in Part 5 of the piece. Gilmour plays his Strat clean, and this part is double-tracked in stereo. He is accompanied by strings from Wright’s ARP Solina. We hear him play a few harmonic notes on another track, before leading the band into a rhythm with funky jazz-rock accents. Mason gives the impression of being much more at ease, and seems less static than at the start of the second section. Waters supports him with a very good bass line, and Wright shines once again with an excellent accompaniment on the Wurlitzer, at times reminiscent of George Duke’s phrasing. Gilmour introduces a funky rhythm guitar, colored by his MXR Phase 90, then Wright adds overdubs on the Hohner Clavinet and the Minimoog (doubled, very likely by ADT, and still with Echorec added). The VCS3 appears from 8:41 with some typical passages, while layers of sound from the ARP rise in a crescendo.
Part 9 (9:05–12:23)
The final part of the monumental fresco that is “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” starts on a tom-tom break combined with inverted effects. Incidentally, this end section (whose working title was “End Sequence”), credited to Rick Wright alone, was the last piece from the Roger Waters era that he would compose for Pink Floyd. The tempo is relatively slow; Mason plays a heavy beat, and Waters’s Precision bass imposes rhythmic phrasing that adds to the depth of the groove. Gilmour is virtually absent, apart from the odd slide passage from 10:43 onward. Wright is omnipresent, firstly on the Minimoog, from which he draws a very poignant, part-improvised melody line, but also on the Hammond organ, the Steinway grand piano, and probably the VCS3. This ninth part reaches its dénouement with a last chord of G major, this part having been in a minor key until that point. Again it is that idea of redemption, something that he certainly felt very strongly about. In the background we can again make out the singing glasses, already used in the first part of the song. And, as the coda draws to a close, Wright reprises the opening notes of the tune of “See Emily Play” on the Minimoog (at 12:11), a nod to his former bandmate, to whom this epic piece is dedicated. “I felt very close to Syd,”72 he confessed in his last ever interview in 2007. And when the journalist asked him whether there was still something of Syd Barrett present in their music, he replied: “There clearly was.”72
For Pink Floyd Addicts
While Parts 1–5 of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” would be played regularly in public after the band’s split, Parts 6–9 were only rarely performed. However, Roger Waters would play them (almost) in their entirety, in particular on his 2002 tour, as did Gilmour in 2001. (Hear his surprising acoustic version—with Dick Parry on the saxophone—on the DVD David Gilmour in Concert released in 2003.)
ANIMALS
ALBUM
ANIMALS
RELEASE DATE
United Kingdom: January 21, 1977
Label: Harvest Records
RECORD NUMBER: SHVL 815
Number 1 (France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Spain, Portugal)
Number 2 (United Kingdom)
Number 3 (United States)
Pigs On The Wing 1 / Dogs / Pigs (Three Different Ones) / Sheep / Pigs On The Wing 2
Animals, the Punk Floyd manifesto
In the mid-seventies, proud Britain was faltering. It was a time of inflation, record unemployment, and low growth. Edward Heath’s Conservative gove
rnment had taken a hard line that merely added to the discontent. This found its expression, for example, in the UK miners’ strike (1974), which, besides triggering an early general election, pushed the country to the brink of bankruptcy. More worryingly, perhaps, the Labour governments of Harold Wilson (March 1974 to April 1976), then James Callaghan (April 1976 to May 1979) did no better than the Conservatives, and faced one industrial dispute after another, as well as continuing riots and attacks in Northern Ireland.
Increasingly the British people could see no future for themselves: some pinned their hopes on Margaret Thatcher, who became the leader of the Tories in February 1975; the younger generation, out of pure scorn or a loathing of a Victorian society in its death throes, would propel a new generation of bands to the forefront of the music scene, whose rallying cry was precisely that: “No future.” As the Sex Pistols, the Clash, and the Damned belched out their hatred of everything that had gone before, their fans, in unity with them, pogo-danced, went around in torn T-shirts, wore garbage bags as skirts and—the ultimate provocation in the homeland of Churchill—adorned their leather jackets with vile swastikas.
Pink Floyd All the Songs Page 46
